


Nights Like This

by the_wanlorn



Category: A-Team (2010)
Genre: Character of Color, Comfort Sex, M/M, Porn Battle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-24
Updated: 2010-07-24
Packaged: 2017-10-10 18:57:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/103060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_wanlorn/pseuds/the_wanlorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>These were the nights he took his time, until Murdock was gasping and begging, to tell him that whatever shit he'd been dreaming about wasn't going to happen without having to actually say the words.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Nights Like This

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Porn Battle prompt "comfort."

The worst part about sleeping with Murdock (and B.A. wasn't gonna lie, there were other bad parts, including how he kicked all the blankets off no matter how cold it was) was the nights when he shot awake, flailing away from B.A. until he remembered where he was, and then sitting on the edge of the bed, panting and muttering to himself too quietly for B.A. to make out the words.

Or maybe the worst part was after that part, when he started breathing more normally and always, _always_ threw himself on B.A. and kissed him desperately, like it was their last chance for anything. He had a hand shoved down B.A.'s boxers before he'd had a chance to start responding to the frantic kissing, even though he knew it was coming every time.

Sometimes it seemed like all he did was say no to Murdock. No you can't have that, no I won't build it, no blowjobs ain't getting me on that plane. But he never said no to this, to anything Murdock _needed_ the same way he needed to be up in the sky pulling daredevil stunts that no sane pilot would try. All he could do was try to slow him down, try to _calm_ him down, and try to be what he needed.

This time, he cupped Murdock's cheek and turned the kiss from a rough clash of teeth and biting that was almost too hard into something softer, letting his tongue slide over Murdock's and making him whine deep in his throat. He covered the hand Murdock was using to jack him off and made him slow down, until it felt less like he was going to come in the next twenty seconds.

"Slow down," he said, and, "We got time."

"Faster means more orgasms," Murdock point out against his mouth. Some days he would agree with that, but not right then.

"We got time," he repeated stubbornly, because they did. They always did, and sometimes, he guessed, Murdock needed reminding.

Once he was sure that Murdock was actually listening, and wasn't going to jump back into 'last night on earth' mode at the first chance, he pushed down Murdock's boxers far enough that he could kick them off the rest of the way. He pulled back just far enough to push off his own, and Murdock took the opportunity to lick and nip his way down B.A.'s body, his cock dragging a wet line down B.A.'s leg.

"You taste-" he started, but the rest was muffled by B.A.'s cock, which he was sucking down and deep-throating as quickly as he could, his fingers digging into B.A.'s ass like he was trying to stop him from getting away. Like he'd _want_ to get away with Murdock's mouth wet and hot and tight around him.

It didn't take long for B.A. to start thrusting up in short, aborted stutters, good intentions or no. When Murdock pulled off with a pop and said, "Fuck me," it sounded like a damn good idea. So he rolled them over and pushed Murdock back until he was lying down while he reached for the lube. He started kissing his way down Murdock's body, stopping to suck on his nipples until Murdock was rubbing against his leg and moaning, while he fingered him open.

These were the nights he took his time, until Murdock was gasping and begging, to tell him that whatever shit he'd been dreaming about wasn't going to happen without having to actually say the words. Because if there was one thing Murdock wouldn't talk about -- maybe the only thing he wouldn't talk about -- it was whatever the hell made him that panicked and desperate.

When he finally slid inside him in one long, slow push, Murdock's begging had turned into noises that maybe he thought were words, but sure as hell weren't anything B.A. could understand beyond their general meaning of _don't stop_. Murdock had his legs wrapped around his hips, and his hands clenching his shoulders as B.A. leaned above him and started thrusting slowly.

He wasn't going to last long, not with the noises Murdock was making coalescing into _harder_, and _faster_, and _more_. So he reached between them with one hand still slick with lube and started jerking him off, squeezing on the upstroke until he was bucking beneath him. When Murdock came, it was with a wordless shout and a drawn out shudder, and B.A. followed not long after.

He pulled away just enough to tie off the condom and throw it in the trash, and even that small distance got a sleepy protest from Murdock and one of his hands, which had migrated at some point from his shoulder to his side, tightened. He considered getting the blanket from where it had been kicked to the floor, but Murdock's grip tightened further, so he just collapsed next to him, one arm thrown across Murdock's chest and their legs tangled together. He didn't really need it anyway. Murdock was going to spend the rest of the night burrowing as close to B.A. as he could get, like if he just tried hard enough he could crawl inside B.A.'s skin, and the fool was like a furnace.

He tightened the arm around Murdock, who mumbled something that still wasn't words and tried to shift closer than he already was. B.A. couldn't fix whatever it was that made nights like that happen, but he could provide what comfort Murdock needed.

THE END


End file.
